Wrath of a Good Man
by Moon Lantern
Summary: "Beware the wrath of a good man". Normally, the Queen and Richard have got on OK, with no ill will on either side. But Elizabeth learns that even the most patient of men can lose their patience, especially if a certain line is crossed. Rated T for threats and hints of violence


**Wrath of a Good Man**

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**Author's Note: Hello all! This idea came to me when I was (re)watching episode 7 of the White Queen and thought that there may be a scene missing. Also, I think it sheds some light on why Queen Elizabeth became as distrustful of Richard as she had been with George. I don't know about you, but I think what Richard does could be within his character.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Cousins' War series, that belongs to Philippa Gregory.**

**Also, special thanks to Madianna for giving her advice on the title. ;)**

** "Beware the wrath of a good man"  
**

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_January 1477_

_Westminster_

"So, George wants to remarry, so soon?" I asked.

"Afraid so," my brother, Edward the King responded. "Not only that, but he wants Mary of Burgundy and I said: no."

I nodded solemnly. It had barely been two weeks since my wife's sister and brother's wife, Isabel, had tragically died. We had not been that close, we had been amicable with each other, and I remember her telling me that she approved of me for her little sister when we got married. She was only twenty-five- too young. I had been one of the pallbearers at the funeral, as we lay her to rest on that cold winter day. Anne was trying to be really strong, but I knew how much that was just a mask. It pained me that I could do nothing but see the loss and bereavement in her eyes and in everything she did. I would offer Anne a gentle touch or stroke as she would lay shaking with grief as we slept, but it was not enough. I did not even care that we had not made love ever since, and some of the men at Court would have told me to leave women to grieve and seek separate beds for the present. But I only wanted to be there for her and do what I could to comfort her like the vow that I had made. We had been staying at Westminster for the funeral but we were due to go back to Middleham soon; perhaps it would take her mind off this place and give her some peace and quiet.

"Richard?" Edward said, clicking his fingers.

"Sorry," I said, snapping out of my thoughts. "What were you saying, your Grace?"

"He's accused Elizabeth of witchcraft."

"What?" I enquired.

"Oh yes!" Edward scoffed and sat back in his chair, as if he had just told a dry joke.

"And how is the Queen taking this?"

"She is getting worked up, and wants to retaliate, despite me telling her to do nothing," Edward sighed, eating some grapes.

"It can't be easy," I cracked a faint smile. To me Elizabeth was many things, mainly very annoying and pompous considering her actual background. To a certain extent, that's what played part in a war with the Lancastrians that had thankfully ended about five years ago. But I think even witchcraft was pushing it a little too far, just a little.

"Richard!" a voice beckoned from the door.

I rose and turned to see my good friend, Francis Lovell, someone who I hadn't seen in a while and was very happy to see him.

"Francis, what's the matter?" I probed, seeing the anguish on his face. He looked a little hesitant, so I escorted him into the corridor, away from the King. "What is it?"

"Forgive me, your Grace-"

"Francis, none of this 'your Grace' nonsense, it's Dickon, or Richard to you," I corrected.

"Yes, sorry, Dickon, what's happening with Lady Anne?" he whispered.

"What do you mean?" My heart began jumping- had she done something in her grief and had I been to ignorant to hear her cries for help?

"It's just that I saw her being led by two of the Queen's bodyguards, they wouldn't let me stop and talk to her, they said it was urgent."

"_What _was urgent?" I demanded, folding my arms and leaning in towards Francis.

"I don't know," Francis confessed. "Truly, that's why I sought you."

I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Francis, where is the Queen now?"

"She should be in the Southern Hall," Francis answered.

"Thank you," I huffed and swiftly turned in that direction with my heels. My cloak trailed behind me like the tail of a shooting star, causing the torches in the hallway to stand aside and salute. My right hand was touching the pommel of my sword that clung to that side of my hip.

I knew that I had to react rationally, and I did not dare to slow down, my body needed the energy. Without the speed, it would have plenty spare, enough to give blood to the fist that was clenching, and the anger that was burning within me. What did Elizabeth think that she was playing at?

I reached the doors to the Southern Hall and pressed an ear to them.

"Do you believe that your sister was poisoned, Lady Anne?" Elizabeth's voice came from inside.

"Your Grace, Issy believed that the dog was poisoned," Anne explained.

"But George told you that I poisoned her, didn't he?"

There was a moment of silence. I took a deep breath, trying to purge my fury.

"Surely if anyone poisoned her it was George?" Elizabeth said. "She's barely cold in her grave and already he's chasing after another wife."

I pushed open the doors and strode in. There was Elizabeth sat in a throne like chair, along with her ladies in waiting, and Anne was left to stand in the centre of the room, just like when she begged Edward for a pardon after she had been rescued at Tewkesbury Abbey. Behind her were two young men- Elizabeth's bodyguards, who bowed as I passed them; I bowed back, as a matter of courtesy.

The room halted and held its breath; I marched over to one of the side benches and sat down. I cracked Anne an encouraging smile, and she smiled back, her dimples almost maturing like the ones that I knew.

"Richard?" Elizabeth cleared her throat, unsure of what to say. "Is there anything we can help you with?"

"No, your Grace, as you were," I said coldly.

"I thought the King wanted him to remarry?" Anne asked, looking at her and then at me.

"Why would the King want George near Flanders?" Elizabeth challenged. "Annie, dear, you need to be really careful of who you trust."

"Anne, George is wanting to marry, I'm afraid," I spoke up.

"Right," Anne whispered nodding, going red.

"Your Grace, I think we're done here," I declared, rising from my bench. "Unless you have any further questions?"

"No, thank you," Elizabeth replied coldly. "You have been lots of help, Anne. My bodyguards will escort you back-"

"If you don't mind, your Grace, I need to speak with you, as well as Deacon and Friday," I said. "Anne, I will see you later."

Anne nodded and walked out of the doors- the bodyguards looked quizzically at her, myself and the Queen, who dismissed her ladies in waiting at this stage.

"Richard, what can I do for you?" Elizabeth said, forcing a smile. Her skin was very pale and her blonde hair was tied back- she was like a tigress observing her surroundings.

"Your Grace, the next time you wish to interrogate my wife, I would be grateful if you will speak to me first!" I submitted firmly, but as calmly as I humanly could. Despite the fire that was blazing in my blood like the sun with its full splendour, I knew that I had to be as calm and diplomatic as possible. "After all, she has just lost her only sister and I'm sure you can understand the grief that she is under."

Elizabeth looked taken aback but nodded, blinking and blushing as if she had been called up on something embarrassing. Perhaps this would go better than I expected.

"Yes... of course, Richard," she agreed. "You are right, Anne did not need to be summoned like that. Although..."

At this point, my lingering smile faded into a glare.

"I am the Queen-"

"And I am no fool!" I snapped, making her and Deacon and Friday jump. The bodyguards placed their hands towards their swords. "Do not even try it!" I commanded and they both retracted their hands. "Don't be stupid, Elizabeth!"

"You cannot talk to me like that!" Elizabeth retorted.

"You already have an enemy in George!" I growled. "You do not want an enemy in me!"

Elizabeth gripped the arms of the chair tighter and swallowed. When she spoke her voice was a desperate and terrified whisper merged with defiance. "Richard, are you threatening me?"

"I've said whatever I needed to," I replied simply. Without bowing, I turned on my heel and kept the bodyguards within my line of sight as I marched out of the Southern Hall, ears echoing with the gravity of what I had uttered.

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"I lost my temper today," I sighed. I was sat at the desk in our chamber, while Anne sat on the bed.

"You did?" she whispered.

"Yes, I might have threatened the Queen and her bodyguards." As the words escaped my tongue part of me felt mad for wanting to laugh at what I had just said. That part was vindicated when Anne let out a chuckle.

"You what? You threatened Elizabeth?" Anne asked, struggling to hold back a giggle.

"It's no laughing matter," I said, yet the jest in my eyes and my smile betrayed me. "Your husband has just committed treason!"

We both burst out laughing and it felt so fulfilling, like something we've not had for some time. I then realised this is the first time that my wife has laughed in days and that's the little nourishment that I'd been missing. I began to blink as my heart welled up.

"Why?" Anne asked, sensing the fluctuation in mood.

I walked over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. I ran a hand along her brown hair and past her ear and then her chin; she blushed and looked down, even after these years of being married.

"Because of you," I croaked, holding her hand. "Anne, I swore to look after you, I know that you're hurting and I really want to make it all better for you."

"Oh, Richard," Anne whispered, touching my cheek with her soft palm; I clasped it still.

"Anne, please tell me, how can I make it better?"

Her blue eyes began watering and my heart caught in my throat. "Anne?"

"Richard, you already are," Anne responded. "I have just lost my sister."

She burst into tears, so I embraced her and let her weep into my chest, her sorrow touched my own, but I exhaled trying to be strong for her.

"I don't know..." Anne sniffed. "Just be with me?"

"I can do that," I promised. For moments, we just sat there holding each other and that was all that mattered for the present.

"Richard, George has really lost it hasn't he?" Anne asked suddenly.

"I suppose he has," I answered, remembering his antics.

"His children, Megan and Ed, they're going to get caught up in all of this," she pondered. "George and her will keep on bickering like wolves... I don't want them to be in the middle of that." She looked up into my eyes and opened her mouth as if to say something.

I smiled and nodded, understanding her and the willingness that her heart showed through the water in her eyes. The other day, I had found Megan carrying baby Ed and hiding in our chamber, the look of terror in her eyes when she was found. Anne had been amazing and sat her down to play a game, which alleviating the little girl's fear at watching her father throw a tantrum. Anne was still grieving hard then, but she had put on that mask for little Megan's sake, even when she asked when her mother was coming back. There are some things that make the wrath of men, or at least the wrath of good men, fade and be regenerated with new leaves and blossoms of fruit. I had just witnessed one of them.

"Do you think George will allow it?"

"I shall go speak to him, and I'm sure he will be grateful that we are offering to help," I replied sadly.

"Anne, when my father, and my brother- Edmund, died I was only eight years old. Edward took it upon himself to be a father for me, he looked after me and taught me most of what I know. I would be honoured to do the same for Megan and Ed."

Anne smiled wistfully. "Yes, and our Ned will have two new friends to play with!"

"Yes, he will," I nodded in agreement.

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_Westminster could be a cruel and cold place, if you would look beyond the lavish halls and the glamour of the people at Court. There would be restlessness and mistrust in their eyes towards everyone, even their nearest and dearest. Because they did not appreciate the value of the simpler things, such as the laughter of your beautiful wife, the joy of your children and loved ones, and the satisfaction that comes with showing loyalty, love and courage for its own sake, without expecting wealth or power in return. But maybe there could be a sanctuary for that way up in the North of England, that place where you feel safe, where you feel like you belong. For me, that place is Middleham. In the winter, the castle and its hearth will keep you warmer and more content than whatever burns in Westminster. In the summer, the Yorkshire Moors will blossom with fields of golden wheat and white roses to keep man and cattle content, and the blue lakes will smile at you with eyes of someone special. So long as you stay here and call Middleham your home, may you always be blessed with remembering the power of the finest things in life. I hope that one day you can find a place where you can feel all that about._

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**Author's Note: Well, how was that? Feedback and reviews very much appreciated.**


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